The next morning, Victory woke up early. The wind was howling through the windows of his room. The cold pierced his bones, but it was far from the most painful thing. After everything he had gone through the day before, after the insults from his former friends and the parents who had never accepted him, he had no room left for weakness. One decision had settled in his mind as an undeniable truth: he was going to change.
He got up, dressed quickly, grabbed his bag, and headed for the door. His parents were gone anyway. He had no one left. But there was someone who might be able to help him: his uncle.
Victory's uncle, Henri Lenoir, was a respected name in the music industry. But Victory had never liked him. He had always found him too harsh, too demanding. Their relationship had always been cold. But after everything he had endured, he had no other choice.
Victory took a bus, crossed the city, and arrived at the neighborhood where his uncle lived. A massive, modern house surrounded by high walls. He rang the doorbell, and a butler opened it.
"Yes, sir?" the butler said in a formal voice.
"I need to see my uncle, Henri Lenoir," Victory replied calmly but determined.
The butler seemed surprised, but he nodded and disappeared inside. A few minutes later, Henri Lenoir appeared in the doorway.
"Victory… what a pleasure to see you," Henri said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I… I'm sorry to come without notice, but I need your help," Victory said, taking a deep breath. "I know we're not close, but I have no other option."
Henri looked at him carefully, arms crossed.
"Tell me what's bothering you."
Victory explained everything. He spoke of the humiliations, the insults, the betrayal of his friends, the loss of his parents, and his decision to stop letting others control his life. He also explained that he wanted to enter the music world, but this time, alone, with nothing but his own will.
Henri listened without saying a word, then moved slowly toward him.
"I see… And you think I can help you?" he asked.
"Yes," Victory replied, his eyes burning with determination. "I want to be seen for who I am. I don't want to be Victory anymore. I want a new chance."
Henri looked at him for a moment before bursting into a dry laugh.
"You know, the music industry is ruthless, Victory. And if you want to succeed, you'll need more than just willpower. You'll have to make sacrifices. But I can offer you what you seek."
Victory stared at him uncertainly. "What sacrifices?"
Henri leaned forward and whispered, "I'm going to make you a star. But you'll have to change. And it starts with your name. No more 'Victory'… your name, from now on, is Dylan Lenoir."
"Dylan Lenoir…" Victory murmured, testing the new name on his lips. It felt strange, but at that moment, he had no attachment to his past. He was ready for anything to move forward.
"Alright," he said, the decision finally made. "I'm ready."
The next evening, Victory, now Dylan Lenoir, found himself in Washington. He was no longer the same. The Dylan everyone would discover was different, transformed, almost unrecognizable. His appearance had changed. He had cut his hair, worn black sunglasses, and his fashion style had radically altered. He had also erased all traces of his past: his old friends, his family, his memories. Everything had been wiped clean.
Henri had provided him with incredible resources. A top-of-the-line recording studio, personal producers, and stylists. It was all at his disposal. He was no longer just a lost teenager with dreams. He was a star in the making.
Dylan stood now in a large recording studio, in front of a microphone. He had never imagined this could be his reality. But he felt ready. The song he had written a few weeks earlier, in his pain, was now a full track. The song he was about to sing to the whole world.
"Okay, Dylan, everything's set," said a sound engineer. "We're on time. Whenever you're ready, you can start."
Dylan took a deep breath. He thought of everything he had lost. His parents, his friends, everything he had to sacrifice. But he knew he had no other choice. He was no longer Victory. He was no longer the one who was rejected. He was Dylan Lenoir, and this new identity was his only way forward.
He stepped up to the microphone, put on the headphones, and waited for the music to start. As the first notes played, he dove in. He sang his pain, his suffering, and his rage. The music had become his voice, his means of expression. Every word he sang was a release.
As the song progressed, he felt the anger that had consumed him dissipate, replaced by an unwavering determination. He knew that this song would be his first victory, the first step toward his redemption. No matter the sacrifices he had made, he was going to succeed.
The next day, Henri took him to a large reception in Washington, where he would meet producers, agents, and other celebrities. The name of Dylan Lenoir was already starting to spread in the music circles. Rumors were flying fast.
"So, Dylan," Henri said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "ready to conquer it all?"
Dylan smiled slightly. "I'm ready for anything."
As they entered the room full of influential people, he realized that his life had just changed. What he had once thought to be a curse was now his blessing. He had taken control of his destiny.
He exchanged a few words with producers and musicians, but he wasn't really there for them. He was there for himself. The name of Victory was now forgotten. Only the name Dylan Lenoir mattered, and he was going to make a name for himself, no matter the cost.
But inside, he knew that the scars of his past would remain. Even under this new identity, he could never fully erase what he had been through. But it didn't matter anymore. He had chosen to be reborn, and this time, he wasn't going to stop.